Flu Blues
by Tripleguess
Summary: [Star Ocean EX.] Even heroes get sick. Off the cuff short oneshot. Features Claude, Rena, Leon, and Precis.


**Flu Blues**

18 August 2006  
a Star Ocean EX fanfiction by Tripleguess   
Genre: Humor  
Rated PG

_A/N: Set some time between EX and Blue Sphere._

"Precis?" Claude cocked his head and knocked harder. Maybe she was still asleep. "Precis, wake up -- it's time for school. Remember?"

A muffled thump, as though the inventor had thrown her pillow at the door. Claude banged one more time. It was wonderful that his father insisted on taking some of his friends to live with them, and Claude was glad of it every day -- but the setup had its drawbacks, too. "You're making us late, you know."

"Go away." Precis' voice sounded weak, even through the door. "I don't feel good."

"Ah. Why didn't you say so?" Claude, hearing footsteps, turned round in time to see Rena descending the stairs in a flurry of movement. She was still dragging a brush through her hair. "Rena, could you check on Precis? I think she might have caught it."

"Oh, no!" Rena gave the brush a final yank and flung it down on the couch, fluffing her blue locks hurriedly. "Leon's not up yet either. We're all going to be late."

"Uh oh," Claude echoed, stepping aside to let her slip into Precis' room. "They were both at Zandra's party..."

"She's got it," Rena called resignedly; with the door open, he could her Precis retching. "I'll take care of her -- you'd better check on Leon."

"I'll call the school, too," Claude agreed, heading down the hall to Leon's room.

"Leon, you sick?"

An incoherent groan was all the answer he needed. He dialed the school and notified them to expect four absentees, then let himself in.

Leon was face down on his pillow, the blankets a sweaty mess around his shoulders. Claude smoothed the boy's messy green hair gently. He had a temperature, Claude noted with concern.

Leon's eyes cracked open. "Soda?" he whispered.

"Right away," Claude promised, and darted off to the kitchen.

He met Rena at the fridge, where she was digging out bottles of raspberry pop.

"I called the doctor," Rena told him, tucking bottles into the crook of one arm. "She said it's been going around. Most cases aren't serious, but a few are running fevers."

"Leon is." Claude grabbed soda and handed Rena some straws. "He's still weak from his bout with whooping cough."

"The doctor'll be by in an hour or two," Rena assured him.

"And I called the school, so we're off the hook there." Claude shut the fridge and led the way back down the hall. "I'll page Father later. He won't get the message for a few days anyways."

"We'd better think what to do, then. I doubt they'll be better by tonight." And Rena whisked into Precis' room.

Claude watched Leon down some soda, then helped the weakened kid to the restroom. Both children were ill and restless, but not inclined to sleep. Rena and Claude put their heads together in the hallway to decide on their strategy for the day.

"They'll be bored stiff in their rooms, and they can't do much anyways. Why don't we let them watch Daring Digital Danny together in the living room?" Rena suggested.

"Because they'll restart their longstanding argument over Dizzy being better than Danny?" Claude said wryly.

Rena shrugged and smiled. "It's still better than being alone in their rooms."

Claude agreed. Leslie, the housemaid, helped them pull two extra couches into the den. Rena put a nightstand next to each couch to hold drinks and found plastic buckets in case of emergencies; Claude cleared a path to the nearest restroom and heated chicken broth.

That done, Claude carried the kids to their new sickroom one at a time and settled them in -- Precis with a charm quilt, Leon with his favorite Digital Danny fleece throw -- while Rena changed their bedding and threw the old blankets in the wash.

They paused Daring Digital Danny for the doctor's visit. The doctor, a silver-haired lady in elegant floral prints, looked concerned at Leon's temperature but pronounced Precis not in danger. "She'll be fine with rest and fluids, but the young man needs medicine."

She gave Leon the first dose herself, then left Rena with the bottle and strict instructions on its usage, which Rena dutifully carried out as the afternoon whiled away to the familiar soundtrack of Digital Danny and the comforting aroma of chicken broth and friendly concern.

x x x

Precis was feeling better by the next morning, but Leon was still ill. And Rena, in the meantime...

"Rena?" Claude knocked at his friend's door, feeling a weird sense of deja vu. "Rena, are you all right?"

"Ehhnnn... I think I've..."

Claude hesitated. He could get Leslie, but Rena would rather see him. "Are you dressed?"

"Well enough. It's all right, Claude."

He left the door open and proceeded cautiously. She was propped up against the headboard, looking flushed and feverish. "I think Leon gave me his," she joked. "You'd better take care of the medicine from now on."

Claude felt her forehead; she had a temperature too. "I'm calling Dr. Miki," he warned, and did.

This time it was Claude who was entrusted with a bottle of medicine and instructions on dosage and timings. He called the school again and wisely got the week off for all of them, then wrapped Rena in a fresh blanket and carried her to Precis' newly vacated couch.

Precis helped him keep both patients well supplied with pop and crackers while Leon bravely offered to switch off Digital Danny with Rena's favorite period flicks. Leslie changed Rena's bedding and advised Claude to contact his father.

To Claude's great surprise, the commander came home that very night. Which was just as well, since Claude wasn't feeling so good by evening...

x x x

"I guess it could have been worse."

Claude cracked one eyelid, dragging himself from a haze of flu-induced ruminations. Rena was propped up on one elbow, a bottle of root beer curled in her hand. She was a little pale, but the feverish flush was gone. Credits for some period flick were scrolling across the holoscreen. He could hear Leon and Precis arguing good-naturedly somewhere nearby. The study, maybe.

"It could," he said at last, following her train of thought with effort. Thinking was hard work right now. "We could've all been sick at once..."

"...and Leslie and your poor father would have to take care of all four of us." She winked. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

He reached out and traced her jawline with one finger. Illness couldn't sap his admiration anymore than daylight erased his dreams. "Not even me?" he teased.

"LEOOOOON!"

A muffled explosion followed by an angry shout obliterated any chance of Rena answering. Leon bolted into the den, looked round frantically, then flung himself behind Claude's couch, instinctively seeking the blonde boy's familiar protection. "I'm not here!" he whispered pleadingly.

"I can't _believe_ you miscalibrated the flux graph monitor!" Precis stomped into the den, literally trailing smoke. Wisps of it drifted in from the hall, and Claude could only guess what the study looked like. "It blew up in my face! Le-- hey, where'd he go?"

Rena kinked a finger in the direction of the yard. "He was headed that way."

"You can't outrun me, you yellow-bellied little --!" The sliding door slammed behind Precis, cutting off her rant. Claude cocked an eyebrow at Rena, who shrugged and smiled.

"He _was_ headed that way -- until he dove behind the couch." She ruffled Claude's hair gently. Her hand felt cool and pleasant, like a summer night's breeze.

Leon emerged dusty but relieved. "Is she gone?"

"She's -- oh, no." Claude heard a tap on the sliding door and looked up to see Precis smirking at him through the glass, one hand on her hip as she formed a "zero" with thumb and forefinger and centered it on Leon.

"She found me!" Leon gasped, and pounded up the stairs. Precis yanked the door open and stalked after him, pausing to glare at Claude.

"You'll pay for that," she growled.

"But I didn't-- "

"Guilty by association," Precis informed him with an air of finality, and ran after Leon. A series of howls and threats marked the progress of the chase as the two kids ran farther and farther upstairs.

"You two shouldn't be running!" Claude called after them, then gave up. His voice was too weak and they were far too fast. Let Father catch them.

Rena blew her bangs out of her face. "On second thought... maybe we _should've_ all been sick at once."

Claude smiled at her. "Maybe."

**-The End**

_**Disclaimer:** This story not created, acknowledged or endorsed by Tri-Ace or Square-Enix, to whom all relevant characters and trademarks belong. **Flu Blues** itself is fan domain and may be freely recopied and archived._


End file.
